July 31 sunrise through smoke haze at camp 23, 04:46 - 05:22.
05:28, half-moon moonset.
05:41, the tethered canoe, on other side of the dead spruce, loaded with gear after breaking camp.
The now empty Tarp shelter and tent locations.
06:05, eating breakfast while sitting on the fireplace.
06:31 - 07:51, heading up the lake, having to paddle hard against the Churchill River's current in some narrower places. Several pelicans are at shallows in rapids for good fishing.
08:10, looking back at the narrows with the pelicans. Even along the slower shoreline it is challenging to get above the rapids to this spot where I am glad to rest before moving on.
There are many locations where vegetation is dying because of the heat waves.
This shoal has dead trees because of being flooded in the spring, an ironic twist to so much dead vegetation now due to the heat waves.
10:45, approaching an island where I later decide to camp, below a long set of rapids on the Churchill River.
A view representative of the landscape recovering from forest fire of several years ago.
July 31 at 12:58 on the island where I will set up camp 24, taking advantage of the hot sun on bare rock to dry the canvas Tent.
July 31 at 12:59, pelican overseeing setup of my camp. At the time I did not notice that the "cloud" on the horizon is actually smoke from nearby wildfire, more obvious in the magnified image.
Tarp shelter erected at the top of a rock slope with sparse moss cover. This spot proves to be quite uncomfortable, Tarp too low, and I am annoyed with myself for the amount of effort and extra guy lines needed to set it up. I later move the Tarp farther down the hill to a better position, closer to the fireplace.
Camp 24 is on an island just below long rapids on the Churchill River.
July 31 at 16:21 I definitely notice the forest fire which is puffing smoke like a locomotive. The fire is within 10 km of camp 24.
August 1, 05:22, sunrise through thick smoke at the horizon.
August 1 late morning at the long rapids, investigating where to cut the portage through thick brush including tall prickly raspberry canes. There is also a patch of blueberries.
The photos below range from the upper end of the newly cut 150 metre trail to the lower end beside the rapids which must be portaged. This portion of rapids is too fast to paddle, too deep to wade and cannot be lined along the unsafe footing on the higher-up shoreline (even if I cleared it which would be even more work than cutting the trail). The portage, about one km upstream from camp 24, is reachable by some hard paddling through rapids and fast water, aided by utilizing the eddies along shores and behind a shoal in the rapids.
August 1 video of the rapids around which I cut a portage.
August 1, sitting for supper at 18:25 facing the lake from the top of the steep rock hill in front of camp. The meal is delicious, gathered at the portage, including walleye and raspberries, blueberries and a few red currants ... mmm good! The raspberries are squished, but tasty, after packing them back to camp in a Ziploc® bag from the portage.
August 2, 05:27 - 05:38, sunrise through dense smoke.
August 2, 05:30, video of sunrise to show the heavy smoke. Note that cawing crows can be heard in the video; they keep up the racket throughout my stay.
A good location for doing laundry, though I have to haul water up the hill 20 metres in order to use a safe spot to dump the used water (at the base of the spruce tree growing in a thick patch of grass-covered humus). Another important reason is to catch some shade behind the spruce tree while washing clothes.
August 2, 14:45, very apparent that the wildfire is moving steadily to the left.
Camp 24 island has a bountiful supply of red currants, plus some raspberries, small blueberries, tiny bunchberries and fireweed.
A red squirrel taking advantage of the tender spruce buds on a fallen tree top.
August 2, 19:40, thick smelly smoke from the nearby forest fire.
August 3, 05:07, sunrise through very thick rose-coloured smoke over the lake, the far shore one km away barely visible.
August 3, 05:50, ruby red ball of sun now visible through the smoke, reflected on lake surface.
August 3 I decide to preemptively clear a site for the canvas Tent at the top of the hill. To do so, I have to move the long heavy branched tree top blown from a large spruce tree. In order to accomplish that I saw off all the branches and throw them out of the way. Thinking I will have to saw the green trunk in order to move it, I try lifting, just managing to do so and swing it off to the side, a much easier task than cutting it into pieces without a chainsaw.
A patch of Saskatoon berry bushes with dry shrivelled berries, suffering from the three heat waves.
August 4, 14:46, very welcome real clouds after heavy rain all yesterday afternoon and evening. Start stove to dry bedding and damp clothes. There is a fallen tree root 40 metres away with soil for in and under stove.
**********************
Summary:
Hard paddling up some rapids on Churchill River. Many pelicans. Wildfire within 10 km of camp, puffing smoke like a locomotive. Ruby-red sunrises through thick smelly smoke. Much undergrowth brown from heatwaves. Third heatwave followed by welcome 12 hour rain, stove on again to dry out. Cut 150 metre portage along rapids. Good crops of red currants, raspberries, blueberries. Jeanette reports worsening fire near my first portage which is also my return trail. Annoying raucous crows on 'Crow Isle'. Good fishing. Do a third laundry. Camp 24 is 13 km from the the previous camp on an island just below the entrance to the same lake on the Churchill River; camp 23 was 2-1/2 km upstream from the outlet of the lake.
July 31:
Up at 03:30 to the alarm, while eating breakfast overlooking the river, a beaver swims nearby and disappears with a big tail splash after detecting me. The day is clear and dead calm and as I paddle soon start sweating in the hot sunshine. Not very optimistically, I hope there is not another heatwave. Paddling up several rapids and strong currents is a hard go, making me sweat worse. One particular narrows, where there are at least six pelicans, takes quite a few minutes and lots of hard paddling to make my way up far enough to be able to land for a rest. Taking a bathroom break at the edge of some brush, I throw a stick into the bush ... "and out pops a young snowshoe hare less than a metre away on the near side of where I threw the branch. He runs straight at me, swerves and scurries past. We were both equally surprised. I say 'My smell isn't that bad!'" Paddling on I encounter more fast current and hard paddling. I canoe past several shoals where all the spruce are dead from high water levels. But I also see many patches of underbrush brown from not enough moisture and too much heat in the heatwaves. Approaching the island where I hope to camp, the first area is not promising, steep rockface. There are quite a few pelicans out in the river at least 500 metres away. Towards the middle of the island on the downstream side there is a well used campsite. After investigating this site, I paddle to check the far side which proves unsuitable.
So back to the first location ... a pattern? ... I unload the canoe before lunch, and park it on a small patch of juniper near shore. Camp gear is carried up the 30-45° slope to a levelish spot below another slope; the top of the first slope, 30 metres from shore, rises about three metres above the lake surface. There is a mostly bare stretch of rock near shore in the hot sun so I lay out the canvas Tent to dry, anchored with stones in case of wind. Later I turn the Tent over to finish drying before storing under the canoe just before supper. When I pulled the Tent pack out from beneath the canoe at the previous campsite, hundreds of ants had taken possession, carrying thousands of larvae into the outside folds of the closed pack. I want to make sure there are no ants inside the pack. This is one reason to never leave any gear unclosed, not just for ants but for other creatures such as squirrels and mice. I lay out the Tent roof tarp and floor tarps too. The Tent was packed damp five days ago at camp 21. After late lunch I get camp set up, including situating the Tarp shelter near the top of the second slope above the fireplace. After considerable effort to erect it, the Tarp is not situated well, too low because there is not a good anchor high enough for one corner. Tut-tutting with myself, and a few aie! aie! aies!, I decide it will have to be moved after supper. After cleaning and rebuilding the fireplace, I eat a hot supper near the fireplace at 17:50 to warm after a cold bath; it is 24°C, a surprise after being sweat-soaked while paddling so do not know what the temperature reached midday in the clear calm day and hot sun. By midafternoon there is no question about a forest fire across the one km wide lake, definitely within 10 km; it is puffing smoke like a locomotive as it advances. Camp faces east, an ideal location in the shade of tall bush in the afternoon. Before bedtime, I do move the Tarp down the slope closer to the fireplace with better tree anchors, much more comfortable and there is a thicker moss base as a floor. I sleep well, a bit chilly by morning. Camp 24 is 13 km from the the previous camp on an island just below the entrance to the same lake on the Churchill River; camp 23 was 2-1/2 km upstream from the outlet of the lake.
August 1:
Up at 04:15, 18°C, no clouds, dead calm, a ruby red sun at 05:00, the sky is clear except for smoke. It is Sunday, so at 06:10 after finishing breakfast I check for a message from Jeanette. Her text explains that there is a fire within 10 km of the outlet of the lake where I started my trip, when I portaged out to get to the Churchill River. (In wildfire terms, 10 km is 'close' and could be a danger to person and property, easily spreading quickly in dry windy weather.) The reason I took that route at the start rather than the faster route down the rapids out of the lake was to make sure the portage was in decent shape for my return, which might now be in jeopardy. I also planned to investigate lakes in that area that I have never canoed, but Jeanette says those areas are burning. Not knowing if it will be safe to head there, looking at the large scale map, I think about changing routes ... again! Rather than heading up the Churchill River to the west, I could go south and then veer back to where I parked, or I could go east down the Churchill but there are fires in that direction and I would have to manage a ride back to my vehicle. Aie! I do not have the detailed maps of those areas, and there would be many portages to the south, some of which might be impassable without significant clearing. For now I pause those ideas. From my journal: "Will phone Jeanette later about possible trip plans to make sure I'm not heading towards advancing fire. Can't escape this darn hot weather and smoke!" The fire reminds me of one I had to flee in 2010, luckily getting out in time before it advanced through the area I was camped. Squirrels chatter this morning. Crows make quite a racket all day, this year's young probably having been raised here. I see several merganser families, now more than one brood together, these young quite large now but still just skittering away with the mother even though they can fly. Pelicans float in the lake in front of camp.
By 07:00 I leave camp to check and clear the portage up the wide rapids to the next lake on the Churchill River. In addition to tools and bivouac gear I bring the Kitchen Barrel so I would have two weeks grub supply in case something happened to the supplies at camp. (No guarantee though, as one time I did the same and a bear and her cubs broke into the food pack temporarily stored under the parked canoe while I was away from camp cutting a new portage trail. She, and I, were not at all happy upon interrupting their work.) Paddling the one km as far as I can up the rapids to reach the portage area, I have to paddle hard in a few places but fortunately there are some river banks and a shoal with eddies beside or below them that ease the trip. I tether the canoe in an eddy below the point 30 metres down from the portage that I created in 2017. The canoe is under the two metre vertical rock face which is a bit of a scramble to get up. I write: "Would barely know I had cut a virgin portage in 2017. Have to look hard for saw and pruner cuts. Grown up with young trees, thick brush and raspberry canes. Get off on wrong 'path' once and have to back up to try again, though do have to veer off in one place to bypass a fallen tree. There are three large down trees that I limb to go over two and under one. At the latter will have to set canoe and top packs down. Because of good shade there are some nice raspberry and blueberry patches. Sweat-soaked, it takes two hours to cut portage. And to think I considered not checking beforehand ... cause how bad could it be after four years?! Done making the trail, pick raspberries, blueberries and some red currants for supper. Catch two thick walleye (16, 17 inches) in the rapids just to the side of where the canoe is parked, along the rock shore where I will have to line the canoe up to the portage. Was going to catch a third but the hook snagged on the long dead tree floating in the water that I pushed the canoe over before landing, a reminder I don't need another fish. The filleted fish completely fill a small three cup Ziploc® bag so the Dutch oven pan will be packed full. The loaded canoe will have to be paddled into the edge of the rapids around the log and then paddled hard into the eddy along the shore. If I screw up will get forced downstream a long ways and have to make my way up to try again (like I did in 2017)."
Back at camp by 12:20, hungry but lunch is not eaten until 13:20 after tending to all my gear from the canoe, moving the clothesline to a better location, hanging up damp or wet clothes and bathing. Look after your gear and it will look after you. The fire across the lake is more evident in smoke billowing up into the sky like a cloud. It is 31°C, calm, very few clouds, very hot, smoke at all horizons in addition to that from the nearby fire. Sitting in the shade with no clothes on, drinking lots of LifeStraw® water, I have to move several times to catch the best protected spots. By midafternoon, there is more smoke haze in the air carried by a light breeze. Wearing just Crocs™ sandals, I gather and saw some firewood, doing it slowly to minimize sweating. By 16:05, 34°C, hotter and feels it, even naked and doing little! Aie! I write: "Will need another bath later. Aliquoting food for supper, just realize didn't eat protein bar at breakfast with hot bannock; made the menu simpler and still don't get it correct. The good news, will have two bars tonight. I think this is a good place to stay until this third heat wave breaks. Jeanette said all week! Aie! 17:05, time to start late supper but better dress for this or risk injury! Eating supper at 18:45, hungry, fried walleye and fresh berries ... mmm good. The fruit is complete with some leaves, small spiders, one ant, twigs; I pick out the latter and the insects ... that I notice. Time for dessert ... splurge ... two protein bars, one chocolate peanut caramel; good, if I don't overdo the chocolate. Not a good bar cause in this heat gets soft so some chocolate and caramel are wasted, stuck to wrapper, messy to eat. [When I received my shipments of protein bars the vendor substituted the chocolate caramel to complete the orders so I need to use them up.] Sun is well hidden by tall trees behind me; another reason to stay here till heat wave over. Thought would need another bath but feel okay. Thank goodness bugs are good, the only advantage of the heat." By bedtime temperature drops to 28°C, clear above, no clouds, smoke cap is quite high on the horizons. In bed by 20:30, tired and weary, I sleep well.
August 2:
Eating breakfast in shade at 08:45, I just finished hanging out my bedding to air. Before eating, I catch three pike from shore at camp (13, 17, 19 inches) which after filleting fill a small Ziploc® bag. It takes many casts from several spots and three lure types, but persistence pays off. The sky at 05:30 is very very smoky, a ruby red ball of sun, calm, clear sky overhead, 22°C, a few real clouds that sadly soon disappear. At 08:55 the temperature has risen to 26°C and I have to give up the shade to do laundry, thinking there would be no shade to use the plunger. I write: "Have some shade while doing laundry - the medium-size spruce one end of the clothesline is tied to. Thank him; I dump all the waste water at his base so hopefully it is helpful, especially in all this hot weather. Wet clothes dry fast in the hot sun. Have to carry water for laundry up the 30-45° slope in laundry pail, filled at shore with canvas bucket, rather than dipping the pail, to get clearer water. Twenty metres, farther walk than preferred but the shade is more important than a closer spot where I could have also safely dumped the waste. Two loads of laundry, not my favourite job but look forward to clean pajamas (already in clean underclothes). One soap wash, six each rinse waters, takes 2-1/2 hours." At noon, 28°C, I eat lunch in shade only wearing Crocs™. Light breeze has cleared smoke, now present only at horizons; I can see across the lake again. Something is bothering a red squirrel which has been scolding for several minutes. By 15:25, it is 32°C, the fire across the lake has advanced to the left several kilometres. I have a second bath after getting sweaty gathering red currants, plus a few raspberries, blueberries, bunchberries and fireweed tops, walking over much of the island. I write: "Pick up some aluminum foil garbage. Aie! There is toilet paper here and there too; don't know why people can't bury their poop and TP under moss, better yet if they have a fire, burn the paper. Laundry has dried quickly and is put away. Late but delicious supper at 18:00, it is still 32°C, very little breeze so really feels hot. Smoke is being blown from the fire across the lake by the everchanging wind direction. I write: "The annoying crow talk continues; saw crow feathers all over the island on my walk, one here, one there; this is 'Crow Isle' I'd say. At 19:40, 29°C, I am sitting, no clothes, right at water's edge hoping to get some cooling breeze. There's some real cloud and blue above but grey smoke at horizons stretching up high to the east and very high to the south; can't see to the west for trees. Squirrel doing all kinds of acrobatics getting and eating some young spruce cones from two fallen trees; I chuckle as she sits on haunches holding a cone in front paws, chewing madly across the length as she rotates it in her paws." By 20:00, 28°C, almost calm, it feels noticeably cooler and I've cooled off also; however, the breeze brings smoke. In bed by 20:30, I sleep well, glad to have fresh pajamas.
August 3:
Before breakfast I walk a meandering route through the bush to the downstream end of the island and quickly catch a 22 inch pike. The fishing is better there because of the current running directly past which I hoped would yield a walleye. Before that, I did try a few casts from shore directly in front of camp. I did not want the bother of canoeing to the rapids for walleye, but also supper will be fish chowder for which I like pike better. The walk to the new fishing spot is fairly direct if I take the best route. It has a very old fireplace and it would be possible to camp there, but my site is definitely better, more space and probably more shade from the afternoon sun. By 08:05 I am eating hot bannock for breakfast. Temperature is 20°C, very very smoky, dead calm, humid, the sun earlier ruby red, but hidden now. By 08:40, smoke has reached higher altitude, and the sun is again visible and bright red. From my journal: "Get sweaty removing fallen tree on top of the hill behind the Tarp shelter; actually it's a long top, broken from a large tall spruce tree, laying on a level spot where I could situate the canvas Tent. It's a big branch of branches. Saw off the largest side branch and drag it downhill close to the nylon tent. Then tackle the main branch, about eight inches diameter that has to be cut from the section out of the way in the bush. The way it is situated I know the log will pry up and bind the saw blade, so first saw off all its other branches; they are big limbs and very long. Thinking I have to saw the main branch but know it will be hard to do, I think let's try to move the branch as is. A heavy lift, I do manage to swing the branch to the side out of the way! Yay! There are two well situated anchor trees which I lower-limb to get the Tent ridge rope around; I also fell one medium spruce and several small ones. Then I source two tall live spruce trees for vertical poles and two more for the sod cloths. On locating each one, I lower-limb and blaze it so I can find the four again to fell if I decide to erect the canvas Tent."
Just before lunch I carry gear to shore to have a bath and to enjoy my meal close to the lake. As I am sitting in the chair after bathing, no clothes on, I start to feel the occasional raindrop but at first think I am imagining it. Taking the gear back to the Tarp shelter, and fetching my clothes hanging to dry, I sit under the Tarp to eat lunch at 12:10. Thank goodness I did not hang sleepgear today yet. It is 24°C, very smoky, calm, very light rainfall. At 12:40 the rain might have stopped. I write: "Say out loud my mantra '... Come onnnnn rain, Come onnnnn rain, Come onnnnn rain!' At least the rain shows there are some real clouds, not just smoke. From the shelter can't see the lake through the thick smoke. Not good for anyone with asthma; I can feel the smoke myself when I breathe. Jeanette says she keeps windows at home closed because of the smoke from BC." After eating, the rain is still gently falling and I pick salad nearby for supper (red currants plus a few bunchberries, two lingonberries, two fireweed tops and flowers). There are lots of red currants to be picked as needed. Because the rain is steady I fell the four blazed trees and section for Tent poles. I write: "On a roll, erect canvas Tent. All gear in Tent from nylon tent except pots, pans and tools under Tarp. A good day to make fish chowder, easier to do than frying it in the rain. One side of Tent, pegs are flat in thin moss weighted with two rocks each. Will be okay unless strong onshore wind; I'm back 50 metres from shore but is fairly open to lake. 17:25 supper in Tent, fresh fish and salad, can't get better than that, completely organic. Steady light rain all afternoon. YAY! Less smoke? Can't see far side of lake, but at least can see lake now." 18:45, closing Tent window and door to lessen smoke inside, it is too early to turn in. With glasses on there is enough light in Tent to write and to do a puzzle. Temperature inside is 22°C, with Tent closed up it feels humid and warm so I take my shirt off. Continually falling asleep in the chair, I finally go to bed by 19:45 when it is too dark anyway. Raining a very welcome 12 hours from noon to midnight, I sleep well. I was lucky to have erected the canvas Tent before the heavy rain, certainly more comfortable than the nylon tent.
August 4 Wednesday:
Soon after arising I walk to the end of the island again and catch two 21 inch pike. The steep rock shores are slippery after the rain so have to pick a safe path and sometimes shuffle small steps. The fish lure gets snagged on a rock but luckily am able to retrieve it without taking the canoe out. It is smoky but can see the far side of the lake. Back at camp, 19°C, I start a bannock baking at 08:20 for breakfast. An onshore east wind increases from light to moderate which sure feels good, even if it brings more smoke, but glad to have fished before it got stronger at the exposed point of the island. By 09:05, 23°C, a welcome reprieve from the heat wave which I hope is over. Breakfast is finished and I have scouted a source of soil for the stove under an overturned tree stump 40 metres from the Tent, using the shovel to expose and pile it. By lunchtime at 11:35 I do some more chores: spruce boughs for Tent doorway, pick red currants, fetch firewood, pack the now mostly dry nylon tent and phone Jeanette. Wanting to know which direction I should head, I leave a voicemail asking to send me a text if it is safe wildfire-wise to head the planned direction up the Churchill River. A small bird is picking currants with me; there are many to share. The nylon tent is still a bit damp in places but I pack just before a few drops of rain; better to be a bit wet that a lot wet. Hot water with lunch hits the spot, nice after the heat. By midafternoon, 20°C, it is very very cloudy and dark, real clouds, not much smoke, a refreshing wind ... yay! I install the stove, carry soil in the laundry pail, fetch some stovewood poles, saw stovewood, split kindling, light from fireplace embers. Nothing will dry outside, so with the stove going well, my damp outer clothes and wet towel plus sleep gear will dry nicely inside as I let the stove die down. I write: "The brisk breeze, the cooler temp, little smoke ... feels great! Those crows keep up their whining caw all day, more a 'waw, waw, waw' not a decent crow call. Wonder if it's because I'm here?" At 18:40 I check for messages, lucky to get good reception with the heavy cloud. There is a voicemail plus text: "Fires all along road to Missinipe. Fire worse near your spring start. Call before going to last portage. Rain forecast Sat & next Sat." Stove dies to embers by bedtime and I sleep well.